


Interloper

by illfoandillfie



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: (kind of?), (light), Anal, Breast Fucking, Choking, Degradation, F/M, Facial, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Free Use, Hate fucking, Multi, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-10-21 04:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illfoandillfie/pseuds/illfoandillfie
Summary: Request: Sorry if this is a weird request but can you do a thing where the reader is apart of Queen and after a concert Roger, Brian and John just pass her around like she’s just holes to fuck but when they’re done they’re all super soft and sweet (and Reader’s maybe a little snarky)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to have gotten myself a reputation for writing group sex and honestly i love that for me. (Is it my brand?)

The stadium was darker now than it had been when you left the stage. It was quieter too, no longer drowned in the noise of the music or the crowd. They’d been wild, making you feel truly welcome on the stage for the first time since the tour started a week earlier. You sighed and dropped what remained of your cigarette next to your previous one, grinding it under the heal of your boot. If you were lucky the boys would have already headed off to the afterparty, left you to get changed in peace and make your way there in your own time. It was part of why you stayed behind, hidden in the wings as you watched the last of the crowd drift out and roadies pack up the instruments and dismantle the lighting rig. You’d needed a smoke anyway, and to try and burn every second of the show into your long-term memory, so it was the perfect excuse. Although, you would have done anything to avoid the rude comments and criticism that were sure to be hurled in your direction had you headed backstage straight away. Because that’s all you’d been getting lately. Not from Freddie, though if anyone had a right to bitch and moan it was him since you were playing second vocalist. Brian’s attitude you could also understand since they had you on guitar for a couple of songs too, but John and Roger had absolutely no right to treat you as appallingly as they had been. You thought it was out of some stupid sense of band loyalty but Freddie insisted it was because they missed shagging you. Maybe you were both right. 

Your footsteps echoed off the walls as you made the solitary journey back to the dressing rooms to change into something a little less stage worthy but no less eye-catching, praying you’d find it empty. You were almost there when you heard voices coming from the other end of the corridor. It had to be them on their way out. With a deep breath you squared your shoulders and held your head high and kept walking right at them. Roger whacked into your shoulder as he passed you, with far too much force for it to be an accident.   
“Watch it arsehole,” you spat at his back.   
He flicked the V at you.   
“Out of the way,” Brian snarled as he shoved past you, followed by a snickering John. You ignored them as best you could, continuing on your way. Clearly the phenomenal show had done nothing to change their minds. If anything, they were more aggro now, having seen the audience, their fans, embrace you wholeheartedly. Freddie was a few steps behind them, flashing you an apologetic look as he reached you, but you waved him off.   
“It’s fine,”   
“Their being right cocks and you know it.”   
“Yeah but I don’t know how to get them to stop. I’ve tried explaining, I’ve tried reasoning, I’ve tried being a bitch, I’m giving up. Clearly it doesn't matter to them that we used to get on so well, so I’m done trying.”   
“They need a good stern talking to. Sit them down like naughty schoolboys and yell for a bit.”   
You laughed, “Yeah, maybe."   
“All I know is It's getting boring, this winging.”   
“For me two Fred. But they can’t keep it up for the whole tour, that’s bloody months. They’ll have to get sick of it soon.   
His shrug was disheartening but he didn’t have a chance to say much more as Brian called for him to hurry up.   
“Do you want me to wait for you?”   
“Nah, you go ahead,”   
He nodded, leaving you with a squeeze of your shoulder. You took your time getting changed into a short tight dress, sequins around the hem to catch the light, perfect for a party and, bonus, not stinking of your sweat, before grabbing your stuff and heading out to the car. 

The party was in full swing when you got there, music blaring and drinks flowing. You rolled your eyes at the sight of Brian chatting up a woman almost young enough to be his daughter and skirted around them on your way to the bar. You were two shots in, starting to wonder which of the people making eyes at you would be worth your time, when you felt a hand on your waist. Turning your head just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye you realised who it was, cutting him off before he could utter whichever godawful pickup line he was about to use.   
“Fuck off Roger, I’m not who you’re looking for.”   
His hand slipped away from you, “Oh for fucks sake, it’s you.” He was slurring just enough to notice, “Thought you’d be off slutting it up by now.”   
“Isn’t that your job?”   
“Pretty rich coming from someone who blew her way to the top. At least I fucking worked for it.”   
“You know I worked for it too,”   
“Sure, worked at suppressing your gag reflex.”   
“God I am so fucking sick of this shit. How many times do I have to tell you none of it was my fucking idea? Freddie was the one who set up the meeting with the record company and they were the ones who thought it’d be a good idea to stick me on the album. I didn’t volunteer for this. Believe me, if I had shagged myself into a record contract I wouldn’t be hanging around with you pricks. I’d be releasing my own album with my own songs.”   
“You used to like our pricks. Couldn’t get enough of them.”   
“Jesus, Freddie was right.”   
“About what?”   
“Nothing. Sod off would you? There’s a guy over there who looks hung and easy and your scaring him off,”   
“Not me, love, your atrocious singing’s done that already.”   
“You’re such a wanker.”   
“Bitch,”   
“Cunt,”   
“Now now children. Meant to be a party.” Freddie said, tapping on the bar for another drink.   
“It’s fine Fred, I’m...”   
“Don’t you dare say you’re going. This is your party too and it’s much too early for a cohost to leave,” he turned towards Roger, “pull your head in Rog, just for one night.”   
“Can’t believe you’d take her side in all this, she’s a fucking bitch,”   
“Used that one already Rog, getting sloppy.”   
“Oh enough already. I’m sick of the constant bickering. Where are Bri and Deaky we need to have a band meeting, upstairs, now.”   
“Christ, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”   
“Just find them.” 

Freddie charmed the key to a function room out of the bartender’s hands and the two of you made your way upstairs. You both fell silent as you waited in the dimly lit room. There were a number of large round tables covered in white table clothes, each surrounded by chairs. Some of them were still laid out with cutlery and half-drunk jugs of water, left overs from whichever event had finished before your party started, the staff called away to help man the bar and offer appetisers to everyone downstairs before they could finish tidying up.   
“Wonder what was going on in here?” you asked as you sat in one of the chairs   
“Wedding reception?” Freddie ventured, halfheartedly.   
You both fell silent, not entirely sure what else to say. He’d listened to you whine about the other three enough times to know everything you were thinking and you could tell his patience was wearing thin. It took the others about twenty minutes before they joined you, grumbling the whole time.   
“C’mon Fred, what’s this about? Ruined my shot with Tabitha just now,”   
“Tabitha? That’s a cat’s name,”   
“Shut up Deacy,”   
Roger laughed as he dropped into a spare seat, already pushed out from a table.   
“Shut up all of you.” Fred said loud enough to make them pause.   
John turned away from Brian, looking for a place to sit, when his eyes fell on you, the grin sliding off his face, “What’s she doing here? Thought this was a band meeting?”   
“It is,”   
“She’s not part of the fucking band Fred,”   
“On this tour she is.”   
“No way,” Brian half shouted, “If that interloper is here then I’m going,”   
“Brian, fucking hell, just stop for two seconds.” Freddie stepped in front of the door to block Brian’s path, and looked over to you. For a moment you thought he was going to try and appease Brian by throwing you out but instead he just said, “give them a right bollocking,” before darting out the door and slamming it shut. All four of you were frozen until you heard the unmistakable sound of the lock and then Brian was at the door, jiggling the knob and yelling, “let us the fuck out of here Mercury, or I swear to God.”   
“Not until you sort your shit out.” Freddie yelled back, “I’m off to have another drink, I’ll be back in a few hours and I expect you all to be friends by the time I return.” 

“This is all your fault,” Roger pointed at you, catching the attention of the other two, “You shouldn’t even be here,”   
“And why not?”   
“Because you’re not part of Queen.”   
“You heard Freddie, I am for this tour.”   
Your statement was met with scoffs of derision and rolled eyes.   
“Jesus, what is your problem?” You turned your back on Brian to glare at John and Roger, waiting for someone to answer. John was the first to speak, surprising you. His resentment had always been a bit quieter than the other two, whispered comments and underhanded criticisms rather than outright name calling. If anyone had been taking bets you would have placed your money on Brian throwing the first stone.   
“Our problem is you. Just turned up one day and started singing”   
“And playing guitar,” Brian chimed in.   
“Yes, exactly,” John continued, pointing at Brian to emphasise his point, “And we had to change shit to accommodate you.”   
“It was okay for a song or two but a whole album?” Brian scoffed, “And then we were told you were joining us on tour! Is it gonna happen again with the next album? It’s like your trying to worm your way into a permanent place in this band and we don’t like it.”   
“Groupie’s aren’t meant to be on the fucking stage with the band they whore around for.” That was Roger.   
“Jesus fucking Christ,” you got to your feet, unable to sit still any longer, “You’re acting like fucking children. You know full fucking well I didn’t organise this and if you really have that much of a problem you can take it up with any of the execs. It was all their idea. Easy way to get my name out there since I’m already _acquainted_ with you.” You paused for a moment to take a breath, “Freddie was fucking right about you. You’re not upset with my performance. You know damn well I can sing and obviously everyone else thinks I’m good enough to be here. No, the real reason you’re all pissed off is that I don't fuck you anymore.” the longer you spoke the louder you got, feeding off the stunned looks the boys were giving each other, “You’re threatened by me because I used to be your groupie and now I’m standing in your spotlight. You’re mad that I’m getting the same sort of attention you used to get from me. Bet you get a little jealous every time you see me with some other guy. Maybe I should take it as a bit of a compliment though, since apparently no one else can suck or fuck as well as me.”   
Minutes passed in almost silence, the only sound you huffing as the rage at weeks of mistreatment was released. You caught your breath, and still no one talked. The silence felt like it was closing in on you, pressing against your ears as you waited for one of them to say something in return. When none of them did you brought your hands to your hips and stared them all down, “Nothing to say? Guess that means I’m right. So I’ll make you a deal.”   
“A deal?” Brian was trying to act unimpressed but there was curiosity in his tone.   
“Tonight. I’ll give you tonight like I used to before you all turned into giant fucking arseholes. And in return you stop bitching about me being here. I’m not going anywhere so either you can accept my offer and be nice to me for the rest of this tour, or you can spend the next couple of months being petty dickheads. No skin off my nose what you choose. Either way I walk away from this one step closer to releasing my own music.”   
“What do you mean _tonight_?” Roger asked, leaning forward in his seat.   
“I mean that for the rest of the night I’m yours. You can share me around, do whatever you want with me, treat me like your own personal slut. And then tomorrow you’ll be nice to me. You’ll complement my singing instead of picking apart my performance. You’ll keep your rude comments and name calling to yourselves. And you’ll accept that I’m playing with you until we get told otherwise. Deal?   
The three of them looked at each other. Clearly that was the last thing they’d expected you to say.   
“Well? Are you in? Because if not I’m happy to try breaking down the door instead.”   
“Knees. Now.”   
“Jeez, alright Rog,” you rolled your eyes at his sudden shift, “d’you want me to call you Sir as well, or will my silent obedience suffice?”   
“God she’s got a mouth on her,” John said, stalking towards where you stood in the middle of them all, “think it needs to be filled.”   
“You always did like my mouth, didn’t y-” you were cut off by the way he grabbed your face in one hand, fingers and thumb pressing into your cheeks.   
“Bitch has got an attitude problem,” he announced to the other two before lowering his voice and speaking directly to you again, “Now kneel like you were told to, so we can fuck it out of you.”   
You nodded as much as you could, cheeks aching under his firm grip. He held you for a moment longer, staring at you as if he were daring you to talk back again, before he let you go. You fell to your knees instantly, looking up at him as he undressed methodically. You would have helped him tug his pants off except that Roger moved to kneel behind you, holding your wrists firmly behind your back while he leaned into your ear.   
“You can call me Sir if you like. Daddy works too, know you get wet just saying it. Whatever you choose I hope you’ll remember to keep being good for us, love. We’re gonna use you every single way we can think of tonight. Show you how frustrated we’ve been with this whole situation.” The hand he wasn’t using to pin your wrists moved over your body, making you breakout in goosebumps as he teased your nipples through the fabric of your dress.   
“Remind us what your safeword is,” John said, stepping closer as he lazily stroked his dick.   
“Saxophone,”   
“Saxophone. Good. Now open wide,” he tapped the tip of his cock against your lips and you took him in. Roger’s grip on your wrists tightened as your hand twitched, your instinct to wrap your fingers around John’s cock trying to take over. Instead you had to content yourself with bobbing down his length, pressing your tongue to the underside as you adjusted to him.   
“Good girl,” he cooed softly, “gonna deepthroat me like a proper whore.”   
You hum caught him off guard and he bucked his hips into you. The gag you made in response ruined any chance you’d had of taking your time to adjust, sending John into a frenzy and encouraging him to make you gag again and again. Before you knew it, he was holding your head steady as he fucked your throat, unrelentingly. Between John’s grunts and Roger’s hand, still toying with your breasts, you were completely oblivious to Brian. So, Roger releasing your hands and Brian yanking one of them up over your head, was a complete surprise. You placed the other against John’s thigh as Brian nudged your open palm with his semi-hard cock, rubbing himself against you until you closed your hand around him. Your position made it difficult to jerk him off properly, but you could feel him getting harder as he rutted into your hand. Roger took advantage of his now free hands, trailing both down your body and onto your thighs before dragging them slowly up and under the skirt of your dress. You could feel the sequins around your hem scratching lightly over your skin as the material was pushed to bunch up around your waist. You jerked your head back, releasing John with a pop as Roger rubbed your clit over your underwear. He stopped too soon, making you whine, and instead placed a hand on the back of your head.   
“Thought you said we could do whatever we want with you. Don’t recall anyone saying you could stop,” he pushed your head forward again until you were once again gagging around John, “now this was your idea so you’re gonna be a good whore and take what we give you.” He gripped your hair and pulled you back before shoving you down again, all the while talking in your ear, “John wants you to swallow so you’re gonna swallow. If we want you to beg, you’ll beg. Whatever we give you, you will take and you will thank us for it. We’re going to use every inch of you. We don’t care how prettily you sing for everyone or how much money you make for the execs. We only care about how well you take our cocks, understand?”   
You had no hope of responding as John resumed thrusting into your mouth but Roger didn’t seem to mind, more concerned with feeling you up. 

John’s hands replaced Roger’s on your head, his grip tightening as his orgasm drew closer. Each jerk of his hips had you gagging, mascara ringing your eyes where tears had clung to your eyelashes and been blinked off. He came with a string of grunted curses, filling your mouth, and ordered you to swallow before he let go of you, streaks of bright lipstick left in your wake. Brian gave you the few seconds it took for him to move in front of you and kick off his pants before he was grabbing your hair and pulling your mouth to his cock. With both hands free you clung to his legs, creating small, crescent shaped indents on the back of his thighs. You only noticed Roger’s absence when John, sunk to his knees beside you, his fingers taking up where Roger’s had been, prying your underwear away from you for long enough to shove his hand inside and run his fingers along your slit, pausing at your clit to rub it softly.   
“God you’re fucking soaked,” he laughed, “Don’t know why I’m surprised. You came up with this little plan way too quickly for it to be spur of the moment. I think you’ve missed being our fuck toy. Probably been looking for an excuse to present yourself to us like this. I think you like being used by us and I think you missed having your holes full of us. Missed how we taste, how we make you feel,” his fingers pressed harder against your clit briefly before shifting back to the softer touch, “I think the spotlight of the stage can’t compare to the rush you feel knowing you’ve been a perfect whore for us.”   
You whined around Brian earning a panted laugh from him,   
“That’s right, slut,” he said from above you, “keep making those sounds. Know you want me to cum in your mouth. And all it does is prove us right.”   
John pushed a finger into you, and another of your whines was muffled by Brian, burying his cock in your throat, holding you with your nose pressed into his pubic hair. A shiver ran through your body as your dress was unzipped, falling open to expose your bare back. Your chest tightened, screaming for air, and you frantically tapped on Brian’s thigh. He let you go, reeling backwards with a final gag as he slipped from your mouth and you were free to gasp for air.   
“F-fuck,” you managed to choke out as your dress was unceremoniously pushed off your shoulders and down your arms. Brian was still in front of you, hand sliding up and down his shaft as he readjusted his other hand in your hair, pulling your head up a little higher.   
“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” he growled, holding you still. The last thing you saw before you shut your eyes was his hand speed up, working himself to release his load over your face. Some of it landed on your tongue but more splattered over your cheek and chin.   
Brian chuckled as he ran two of his impossibly long fingers over your chin, pushing the cum up to your lips. You dutifully sucked on his fingers but a loud bark of laughter distracted both you and Brian. 

“What the fuck are you doing carrying lube around in your jacket, Rog?” John was collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles.   
“What? Thought that girl with the big arse might show up again tonight, wanted to be prepared.”   
“You’ve been wearing the jacket all day, how long has it been in there?”   
“Not that long, Crystal got it for me after the show. But y’know,” he pushed on your back between the shoulder blades until you fell forward onto your hands, “you wanna make fun of me, you won’t get to fuck her arse.” He brought his hand down onto your backside, making you jump. You felt your dress being pushed up to your waist, and your underwear being slipped down your legs until they were tangled around your knees. There was a brief pause as you heard him unzip is his pants. The next thing you expected to hear was him popping open the lube, but instead he eased into your cunt. He went slow but it made your breath catch in your throat all the same. Once he was buried in you as deep as he could go he began to pull out again, almost all the way before he snapped his hips forward, driving back into you hard.   
“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, letting yourself collapse on your arms, resting your head against them. You could feel the last of Brian’s cum smearing across your cheek and onto your arm as Roger continued his slow pace. You’d almost forgotten about the lube until you head him flick open the tube. It was cold against you when he squirted a generous amount over your arse, carefully using his fingers to begin stretching you out. You moaned, the combination of his fingers and his cock pushing you steadily closer to orgasm. But not fast enough. You moved your arm, slipping it under your body with the idea of rubbing your clit until you came.   
“Would one of you stop her?”   
John grabbed your arm and pulled it back before you could get your fingers where you wanted them.   
“No, please, I need more,” you whined, shifting your other arm out from under your head. Brian grabbed that one, both of them pinning your wrists out in front of you.   
“Please let me touch,” you said into the carpet, trying to wriggle free of their grip. Roger brought the hand that wasn’t occupied down on you again, drawing a yelp from you.   
“Told you we were gonna show you how frustrated we’ve been. So you don’t get to cum that easily. If you’re good you’ll be rewarded.”   
He picked up his pace, rolling his hips into you faster, making you cry out though he wasn’t angled quite right to hit your g-spot. Without warning he pulled his fingers from your arse and you found yourself being yanked up, Roger’s hand wrapping around your throat to hold you against his chest. You could hear Brian laughing as your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned, only for Roger to squeeze your throat and cut it off. For a moment you floated there, willing Roger to just make you cum, but the sound of a chair being dropped in front of you brought you back to the room. John sat down and leaned forward to grab your tits, tugging on your nipples until you winced.   
“Y’know, going bra-less was completely unnecessary in that dress. Just more proof you wanted to whore around for us.” He said as he used his hold on your nipples to pull you away from Roger’s chest. Roger’s hand remained tight on your throat as John slid his cock between your breasts, using his grip and the motion of Roger’s thrusts into you, to push them up and down his shaft.   
“She likes it when you call her a whore. Fuckin’ squeezes her cunt.”   
“Is that right, huh? You want to be our pretty cumslut that badly? Good. We’re gonna cover you in it. Gonna fill you so full of spunk you won’t be able to move without it dripping down your legs. And you’re going to beg for it, aren’t you? Go on, beg roger to cum in your pussy.”   
“Pl-ease, Roger, please cu-m in my pussy.”   
“More,” Roger growled as he rammed into you again and again, rapidly heading towards his climax.   
“Pl-please cum in me Rog. I nee-ed it. Want, want to fee-l you fi-ll my pussy.”   
Roger slammed into you twice more, hard, holding himself balls deep in you as he hit his release, grunting, voice strained as he told you what a good whore you were. 

You whined as his softening cock slipped out of you and he moved aside. But you didn’t have time to miss the feeling of being filled too much before Brian was placing his arms under your shoulders and lifting you to your feet. John stood and pushed your dress and panties from you completely, leaving you naked. You let them pull you around, barely able to concentrate on anything other than the ache between your legs and the tight coil in your stomach that felt like it could spring loose at any moment. John pushed himself onto one of the tables, legs dangling over the edge as Brian lifted you up too. You were unceremoniously dumped on John’s lap, his hands pulling you until you were lined up with his cock. He swatted at your thigh. You squeaked and sunk down onto him, rocking against him.   
“Where’d that lube go?”   
There was some shuffling noises from somewhere behind you followed by a triumphant, “aha!” and then John was grabbing your hips to stop you as Brian came closer. When he spoke he was right behind you, his breath on your ear sending a shiver down your spine.   
“Since Rog was so good as to stretch you out for me, shouldn’t have any problems taking my cock,” he turned and spoke over his shoulder, “Thanks Rog.”   
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Roger said, voice distorted by the cigarette between his lips.   
You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around John’s neck as Brian spread your cheeks and began easing himself into you. John teased you the entire time, rolling your nipples between his fingers as he told you how hot you sounded whimpering like you were. By the time Brian was fully sheathed inside you, you were panting against John’s shoulder, desperate for one of them to move properly. You squirmed between them, trying to encourage them to fuck you but neither was having it.   
Brian slapped your thigh, “Hold still. You’ll get to cum once you’ve proved you can be a good slut for us.”   
“I will. I am. I promise I’ll be the best slut you’ve ever had, please just fuck me.” You whined, lifting your head up so they could all hear you properly.   
A chorus of laughter followed, even as you continued to beg. You were cut off mid word as Brian pulled back and plunged into you again, starting slow but rapidly picking up speed. John leaned back on one hand, his other resting on your hip, letting you rock forward on his cock with every one of Brian’s thrusts. It was by no means the first time you’d ridden John or the first time you’d let Brian in your back entrance, but you’d never had them both at the same time before. You were left completely breathless, feeling fuller than you ever had in your life. Brian was in your ear, breath coming hard as he semi-coherently grunted his thoughts about _how fucking tight_ you felt and how much he’d _missed fucking you like this. _His hands were all over you, trying to find the best way to hold you as John did the same, occasionally knocking each other out of the way. The closer to the edge he drew, the tighter John held you, pushing himself to sit up a little more so he could grip you with both hands. It was intoxicating, feeling both of them practically fighting over where they could touch you, hold you, the _almost_ innocent skin to skin contact making you burn up. Your own moans were rising in pitch as Brian slammed into you repeatedly, each thrust making your clit drag against John’s pubic bone. You shook as you finally came, feeling Brian still behind you, shooting ropes of cum into you as he groaned in your ear. John dropped his head to your shoulder as you clenched around him, swearing as he came.   
“Shit,” he gasped as his orgasm subsided, “Was planning to cum on your tits. Pussy just felt too good though.” 

You could feel the mix of his and yours and Roger’s cum dripping down the inside of your thigh as John gingerly helped you off the table.   
“Does that mean she’s ready for me again?” Roger asked, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back. You whimpered as he spun you round, pushing you to bend over the table. He wasted no time, plunging into your arse as you balled up the crisp white tablecloth in your fists.   
“Like you best like this, a fucked out whore, all placid and obedient. No more snarky fucking comments. Just holes begging to be filled.”   
You cried out as his fingers found your clit, relentlessly determined to push you over the edge again. Cum dripped out of you with every shift of your hips, little drops hitting the floor between your feet. All you could do was whine and moan as Roger ruthlessly used you, gasping and groaning himself.   
“Attagirl,” Roger gently cooed when you came, shaking. He slapped your arse again as he drew closer to the edge, leaning his whole body weight on you as he fell over it. He removed himself from you and helped you to stand, catching you when your legs began to give out. You were gently lowered to the floor where you lay down, arms spread wide, breathing deeply.   
“You look good like this,” Brian said, kneeling beside your head, “Makeup all smudged, sweaty and dripping. You look used.”   
“You laughed softly as he lifted your head and shoulders, propping you up so you could lean against his knees.   
Roger reached out to brush a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “Are you okay?”   
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat to make your voice stronger, “Especially since you’re all being nice to me again.”   
“Sorry we were such pricks, promise you won’t hear another bad word from us. Unless it’s well deserved.”   
Before you could respond John was dropping beside you, a jug of water in one hand and a handful of paper napkins in the other.   
“Sorry, door’s still locked so we can’t actually get to the bathroom or anything. But I found these on one of the tables, if you wanted to clean up.”   
You thanked him, dipping the corner of one napkin in the water and taking it straight to your face, scrubbing to remove the remnants of Brian’s cum from your cheek.   
“Hang on, love, missed a spot,” Roger said, taking the napkin from you and swiping at your chin. You could tell he was trying to be as gentle as possible, smiling at you when you thanked him. Brian’s fingers found their way to your arms, trailing soft, calming lines up and down your skin as you relax into him. John did a similar thing over the calf he’d knelt beside, although it felt less deliberate than Brian’s movements.   
“Do you want some help cleaning up the rest of it?” John asks, pointing vaguely between your legs, cheeks still slightly flushed from the exertions of the previous few hours.   
“Jeeze Deaky, give her a chance to recover before you try and get started on round...what are we up to?”   
“Bugger off, that’s not what I meant,” John says, shoving Roger slightly. He turned to you, “I swear it wasn’t. You just look tired.”   
“I know, John,” you reassure him, “but I think I’d rather do it myself. Sensitive and all that.”   
Brian dipped his head down, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “None of us have said it yet but you were wonderful. Firstly, for suggesting it and also for taking it all so well.”   
“Y’know it’s a bit of a shame you didn’t add to the mess, Brian. Could have had all three of you leaking out of me.”   
“There’s still time,” Roger said, grinning mischievously at you, “technically you did promise us the rest of the night, and if I’ve gotta hold my tongue around you for months then I’d like to get as much use out of you as I can.”   
“He’s right, you did say all night. And I’m certain we could find plenty of other ways to keep you busy.”   
“Are you guys serious?” you said as you tilted your head back to look up at Brian, “You really wanna go again? Now?”   
“Don’t worry, we’ll need a bit of time to recover first.”   
“Perhaps,” John said, leaning in slightly, “Once we get out of this room, we can take you back to the hotel and figure out what else to do with you. Personally I’d like to see your tits painted with cum, but I’m sure the other two have ideas of their own.”   
“Might have to stuff your panties into your cunt to stop any more from dripping out of you.” Roger said, voice low and rough, making you clench your thighs together.   
“I guess I did say _all_ night,” you said, trying not to sound too excited, “but this means I get to write a song on the next album.”   
“Don’t push it, love. Just because we’re being nice doesn’t mean we’re over it.” 

By the time Freddie remembered to come and get you the four of you had redressed and cleaned up the mess you’d made. He’d opened the door to find you sitting around talking and laughing.   
“Well this is different,” his voice drew your attention, “Thought I’d come back and find at least some evidence of a fight. But instead, no yelling, no broken chairs, no black eyes.”   
“We came to an agreement,” you said shrugging, “They’re going to play nice from now on.”   
“Y/N you common hussy, you fucked them all didn’t you? You know that’s not the sort of bollocking I meant.” 


	2. Snapshots From Before (Prequel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before the events of Interloper, a few snapshots of Reader's life as a groupie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Response to a request as part of my 1000 follower celebration on tumblr

Following Queen on tour was always fun. The first time you’d done it, quit your job and jumped in your shitty car and hit the road, had been exciting if a little frustrating. There was more than one night you slept in your car, having been unable to catch the attention of any of the boys. But by the end of the tour they knew you well enough.  Things had changed a bit since then. Your car wasn’t quite so shitty for one. For another, the boys definitely knew you now.  You wouldn’t necessarily say you were friends, though you were friendly.  They certainly expected to see you now, invited you to join them for dinner occasionally, had no problems with stopping for a chat when they passed you backstage. But for the most part your relationships definitely revolved around the physical. 

***

On a rare off day, no show that night, Roger found you in the bar.    
“Scotch on the rocks, and whatever the lady’s having,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table as he sat down beside you, his arm draped over your shoulder.   
“Been a while since anyone’s called me a lady,”   
“Been a while since you acted like one though,”   
“Thanks Rog,” you took a sip of the drink he’d bought you, “So what’re you doing here?”   
“Looking for you actually. ‘m bored,” the final word came out as a whine that on other men would seem childish but somehow not on Roger. Perhaps because you knew he was a big kid at heart.    
“Shouldn’t you be relaxing? Catching up on sleep? Getting ready for tomorrow night’s show?”   
“Nah that’s all boring, much rather have a drink with you,”   
“I know that tone Mr Taylor, a drink’s never just a drink with you,”   
“Can’t blame me for wanting a shag from my favourite groupie,”   
“I’m your favourite now am I? Thought that was Monica with the big tits,”   
“Oh she’s fine and all but not as good as you,”   
You hummed and took another drink, “keep talking like that and I might just have to blow you,”   
“Wonderful offer but I had something else in mind. My room, five minutes,” He downed the last of his drink, tapping the table once more before he left. 

You waited three and a half minutes, taking your time to finish your drink, before you stood and made your way to the elevator. The door opened after two knocks, Roger slipping the do not disturb sign onto the handle as he pulled you inside.    
“Right on time,” he said as he pulled you through his suite towards the couch.   
“Well you don’t earn such high praise as yours without some punctuality,”    
“Punctuality. Good word. We should play scrabble some time,”   
“Strip scrabble?” you asked as Roger began pulling your clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor.   
“Is there such a thing? Pretty sure if there was I would have played it,”   
“Well let’s invent it then,” you shrugged, letting out a small squeal of surprise as he pushed you, naked, onto the couch and dropped to his knees in front of you.   
“Next time. Got a different game for you today.”   
“And what are the rules?”   
“There’s only one rule. No cumming,” he pushed your legs wide, “such a lovely cunt. Actually, spose I should specify. You’re not allowed to. I can do what I want.”   
His finger tips traced light patterns over the inside of your thigh, making you shiver with anticipation, “Do I win something at the end?”   
“You win my praise and you win my cum and you don’t end being punished. If you’re very good I might give you a ruin.”   
You squirmed at his words, earning a laugh from Roger.   
“Christ you’re already wet and I’ve not even started yet. This is going to be fun.”

You had half a second to try to compose yourself before he was leaning forward and dragging his tongue along your slit. He wasted no time in slowly working you up or teasing you, instead heading straight for your clit, his tongue pulsing against you, making you whine almost instantly.   
“Bloody show-off,” you muttered, feeling Roger’s breath against your pussy as he chuckled and continued sucking on your clit. When you whined that you were close Roger pulled back a little, fingertips already dancing over the inside of your thighs again, until your orgasm had subsided enough for him to continue. By the time his mouth left you a third time you were falling apart. He leaned back, eyes roving over you, taking in your quivering legs, your hands clutching at the couch cushions, stiff nipples, closed eyes, teeth-bruised lips. And then he started in on you again, leaning close, his tongue flicking over you, sucking on every sensitive spot you had, but with the added stimulation from his fingers. They pumped into you slowly, almost delicate in the way he touched you, except for how they curled against your walls suddenly, making you shudder and cry out and once again warn him you were close.    
“This is why you’re my favourite, so responsive. And obedient. Monica with the big tits would never tell me she was close so I could edge her, she doesn’t have the patience. But you’re a good little slut who likes earning praise.”   
Again, and again he stopped and started and stopped again, laughing when you caved and begged him to finish you off.    
“Sound so pretty begging,” he stood up.   
“Wait, where are you going?” you’d thought the threat of denial was part of the game, incentive to get you to play along. You’d not for a moment considered it was real, that Roger might actually leave you dripping wet and desperate.   
“Nowhere, but I love how worried you got," he shrugged off his shirt and undid his pants, freeing his cock, precum dripping from the tip, “Kneel for me.”   
You shifted to your knees, leaning against the arm of the couch as Roger position himself behind you, holding your hips with one hand and using the other to slide his cock along your folds. You tried to shift backwards, find more friction but he made a warning sound that had you dropping your head and trying to hold still. A jolt went through you as he tapped his cock against your clit and then again, making you whine loudly.   
“I’d tease you more but your pathetic little noises have got me painfully hard,” he squeezed your hip as he entered you in one fluid motion, “and before you ask, you still don’t have permission.”    
You choked out a moan, so focused on trying to breath that you were taken by surprise when he started fucking you. He was deep, shifting his hand to your back so you’d arch your arse up higher as he ploughed into you.    
“Rog - shit - ‘m close,”   
“Already?” he slowed his thrusts but didn’t pull out as you tried to calm down, withdraw from the edge again. As soon as you nodded he sped up again, returning to his original pace. And then slowed when you clenched down and whimpered another warning of your impending release. But the next time he ignored you.   
“Imgonna-”   
“Hold it,”   
“Please,”   
“Hold. It,” each word was punctuated with a grunt as Roger chased his own release.   
You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate on counting your breaths, anything to distract you from how he sounded as he got closer, how he felt hitting so hard and deep, how tempting it was to just give in and take a punishment. Tears caught on your lashes as Roger came, collapsing over you and panting in your ear as he recovered enough to pull out.   
“Good girl,” he said softly, brushing your damp hair away from your face, “you can go now.”

“Wait, what?”   
“You were right, I should be using today to relax. Rest.”   
“Rog, c’mon, you’re not really going to leave me like this,”   
“I could. If I wanted to keep you like this all day I could. Not like there’s a show to get ready for or anything,”   
“Well I could go find one of the others to help me out,”   
“Yeah, you could. But you wouldn’t. Because you know I’d come looking for you again later and I’d expect to find the same messy slut I left. Besides, Bri and Deaky have gone out for the day.”   
You whined again which only made Roger laugh.   
“Maybe I’ll make you a deal,”   
“Yes, anything,”   
“Don’t agree just yet, you haven’t heard it,”   
“Tell me what it is then,”   
“Here’s the thing. I’m tired. Don’t feel like exerting myself anymore, so I’m going to hop into bed. If you’re really so desperate for dick you can ride me. Take my load well enough, with no fucking complaining about being close, and I’ll let you cum on my fingers. I’ll even let you lick them clean after.”

***

Brian’s half unbuttoned shirt was sticking to him, still sweaty from the show he’d just played. He buried his face in his towel, dragging it down over his neck and chest and you were hit by the sudden urge to take the towel from his hands and continue its path with your tongue.   
“You were on fire tonight Bri,”   
“Yeah, really great crowd. Really great show, all round.”   
“Yes, but I was specifically talking about you. Couldn’t’ve dragged my eyes away from you tonight if I’d wanted to,”   
“Is that so?” He sounded intrigued, exactly where you wanted him.   
“Mmhmm, though I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention to what you were playing. Kept getting distracted by your fingers. Watching you handle Red just made me think of how good it feels when you handle my pussy.”   
“Naughty,”   
“Oh you don’t even know the half of it. Because see, I've been thinking about you since you did the run through earlier today,” you stepped closer, running your fingers down his arm as you spoke, “Watched you for a bit while you were rehearsing and got thinking about your fingers and then about your cock. About how well you fill me. Your cock in my arse while you finger my pussy. How pretty you sound moaning for me. How badly I want to hear you beg to have me. It’s a bit silly how worked up I got, had to go and change my panties before the actual show started. But that did give me the chance to get my plug.”   
His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. His fingers were tense on the towel and you could have sworn his bulge was more noticeable than it had been before. It certainly felt hard against you as you pressed your body into his and trailed your fingers back up his arm, continuing the path up to his jaw.   
“And that’s not even mentioning all the filthy things I thought about during the actual show. You looked so fucking hot out on that stage, I could’ve crawled out and blown you in front of that entire crowd.”   
“Jesus Christ,”   
“Don’t you want me Bri? I can be a desperate whore if you want – call you Sir and beg you to fuck me. Or I can choke you and tell you how pretty you look when you cum for me, I know how much you like that. Whatever you want from me you can have.”   
“You’re wicked. Couldn’t have waited until we were out of the fucking stadium to do this? There’s nowhere here I can fuck you without risking being walked in on.”   
“There’s the bus,”   
“As in the tour bus me and the boys essentially live on?”   
“Why not?”   
“Persuasive argument. S’pose what they don’t know won’t hurt them. We’ll have to try not to make too much of a mess though.”   
“Promise I’ll take everything you give me, won’t spill a drop.”   
“Oh I wasn’t worried about that, it’s your mess I meant. I know how wet you get when I’m in both your holes.”   
“Could wait until we got back to the hotel I guess,”   
Brian scoffed, “Fuck that. I don’t care about the boys _that _much.”

There was no way the rest of the band and crew didn’t know what you were doing. After all Brian had disappeared between leaving the stage and returning to their dressing room and the last person he’d been seen talking to was you. So everyone was bound to work it out sooner or later. You hoped that meant you’d have ample time but Brian wasn’t taking any chances, pulling your shorts and panties off as soon as the door of the bus was shut behind you. It was hot in the bus, the air a little stale, but Brian was already drenched in sweat and you were just drenched, so neither of you really noticed.   
“Bend over the table for me,” he said as he moved towards the bags stored at the back of the bus. You pulled your shirt off and got into position, palms resting on the table that was usually used to balance petrol station coffee cups and games of scrabble. Brain returned, popping open a tube of lube.   
“You ready? I’m gonna take your plug out okay?”   
“Mmhmm, I’m ready,”   
You braced yourself, resting your forearms on the table and tried to stay relaxed as Brian slowly eased the plug from you. It was replaced moments later by his fingers, the cool lube that covered them making you shiver.   
“Feels so good Brian. Got no idea how badly I’ve wanted this all day,”   
“Think I’ve got some idea,” he said, pushing his hips towards you.   
“Poor boy,” you looked back at him over your shoulder, “Ask nicely,”    
“Please can I fuck you, Y/N?”   
“Fuck me how Brian?”   
“You’re going to be the fucking death of me. Please can I fuck your arse?”   
“God yes,”

He chuckled as he pulled his fingers from you. The was a pause as he grabbed more lube and then he was replacing his fingers with his cock, causing you to whine into the table.   
“Taking me so well,” he said softly as he carefully worked himself deeper, “you okay?”   
“Mmm so good, Bri. Fuck you feel so good.”   
“Yeah? Feel, fuck, feel pretty good yourself. So fucking tight. Gon-gonna start moving okay?”   
“Yes, fuck me please,”   
“Needy fucking slut,” he slapped your arse and began thrusting into you. You clutched at the edges of the table, chest pressed against the cool surface as he got rougher, leaning over you and slipping a hand around your throat, forcing you to raise your head.   
“Better get used to taking me like this. Your arse is so good I’m never going to want your cunt again.”   
It was all you could do to remember to breath. Between the pressure on your throat and the way he was railing you into the table there was barely any room left in your head for simple functions like breathing. He let go of your throat, leaving you gasping as he dropped his hand to your pussy, sliding his long, dextrous fingers into you. Whenever he thought you were getting too comfortable, he’d lay another spank on your cheek, the sting only turning you on more.   
“F-fuck,”   
“So wet. Knew you’d make a mess.” he let his thumb fall to your clit, drawing a moan from you, “Should have invited one of the others, could’ve had them fuck your cunt for me. Oh! The slut likes that suggestion,”   
You moaned again, clenching around his fingers at the idea of two of the boys sharing you.   
“You gonna cum thinking about two cocks filling you? What about three, one each of your holes. C’mon, show me what a greedy whore you are and cum.”    
He let go of your hip to choke you again, hand vaguely sticky from the lube he’d spread over his cock and the added pressure was enough to send you falling over the edge with a loud cry. You shook as he kept pounding into you, his grip on your throat the only thing keeping you from fully collapsing against the table. The fingers between your legs rubbed against your g-spot, pushing you into another orgasm as reached his own climax.    
“Shit,” he panted as he withdrew from you, leaving you a twitching mess over the table, “guess we should go clean up for the afterparty.” He placed a light spank on your backside and then left the bus. 

***

“Woah, hey,” you blurted as you felt a hand wrap around your arm and begin pulling you towards a closed door.   
“Shhh, keep your voice down,”   
“John, what are you doing?”   
“Hold your horses,”   
John opened the door and pushed you inside, following with a final glance around the empty corridor, and pulling the door shut behind you. He fumbled in the dark for a moment, both of you blinking when he found the light switch he’d been searching for, illumination the small room you’d ben so unceremoniously shoved into.   
“Jesus John, what was that about? Don’t you have to be on stage in, like, ten minutes?”   
“fifteen,”   
“So what are we doing in here?”   
“You’re,” he pushed down on your shoulder, “going to suck me off.”   
“Am I now?” you stood your ground.   
“You caused this hardon you can fix it,” he pushed down on your shoulder again and this time you let him, lowering yourself to the ground, “Walking round in those skimpy little shorts and that tight shirt with no bra.”   
“What about it?”   
“Don’t play dumb. You wanted one of us to see you so you’d have an excuse to slut it up before the show. Congratulations, it worked.”   
“That actually wasn’t my plan, I was just hot, but I’m kinda glad it’s worked out this way,” you ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, tracing the outline of his dick, “weren’t kidding when you said you were hard,”   
“Get sucking, don’t have much time,”   
“Geeze, alright I’m going,” you quickly undid his fly, wiggling his pants down and wrapped your hand around his cock, lowering your mouth to the tip. He let you bob up and down his shaft for a couple of minutes before his hand landed on the back of your head, holding you in place as his hips jolted forward. You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat.   
“Hey!” some of the effect was lost as you choked the word out, “what the fuck!”   
“Told you, short on time. Now hold still while I fuck your mouth.”   
He didn’t give you another chance to protest, ramming his cock back into your throat, using both hands to keep you in place. You could feel saliva dripping down your chin and onto your chest, wet gags being pushed from you with every rough thrust he gave. All you could do was hold onto him, fingers digging into his thighs, and try to stay relaxed. 

“God,” he grunted, “bet you’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you slut,”   
You hummed around him, earning a moan in return.   
In the corridor outside you heard someone call for John. The man in question held his finger to his lips as he pulled away from you.   
“Where the fuck is he? We’re on in two bloody minutes,”   
“Calm down Rog, he’s probably just in the bathroom,”   
“He better be.”   
The footsteps subsided and John shoved his cock back into your mouth, “Gotta finish me off, sweetie.”   
You did your best to speed up his release, using your tongue as he kept ramming himself into your throat, muttering about how close he was, until finally his hips jolted and his fingers tightened on your head and the familiar salty taste hit you. John’s head dropped forward as he slipped from your lips, hands dropping from your head.    
“Thanks Y/N, you’re a life saver,” John readjusted his pants, zipping them back up.   
“Well couldn’t have you going on stage in that state could we,” you said as you stood.   
He laughed, “Definitely not. Find me after and we’ll see what we can do with a bit more time,”   
“Sure, if Rog hasn’t killed you,”   
“Shit, yeah, I should run,”

***

The studio was quiet, almost all of the lights turned off. You’d flicked a single one on as you snuck in, heart racing. Technically no one had said you couldn’t go in there but you still felt like you were breaking some kind of rule. The draw was too strong to resist though. If there was one thing you loved it was music, it’s part of what had drawn you to hanging around bands in the first place, which led to sleeping with them. A natural progression of sorts. It was your dirty little secret though. Stolen moments while the band were sleeping off the previous night or having a day off. You’d flirt with some poor dumb bloke who worked at the studio, the kid who got people coffee or who answered the phone. Not enough that anyone could suggest you were going to sleep with him, just enough to make him believe you would. He’d unlock the door for you, maybe make you pay with a kiss or a quick flash of your tits if he was particularly bold. And then you’d find a guitar and start plucking at the strings, seeing what you could come up with. 

You’d been tempted to use Brian’s Red Special every time you’d see it, sitting out, begging to be picked up. So far you’d managed to resist though you were certain one quick strum of it would inspire instant classics, the stuff of legends and record contracts. But Brian would be pissed if he found out and besides you weren’t worthy of that incredible instrument. So you stuck to an old beaten up acoustic that seemed to have lived at the studio for decades if not centuries. It was worn and you’d had to replace all of the strings but it had a decent sound, workable at least. It was familiar to you now, your fingers easily finding their place as you began picking out the chords you’d been working on. You backtracked, made adjustments, sang the lyrics you’d written over the notes you played, tried to get it just right.    
“That’s pretty, did you write it?”   
You gasped at the familiar voice behind you.   
“It’s only me darling, nothing to be frightened of,”   
“Jesus Freddie. Thought I was alone.”   
“Was on my way home and saw the light on, thought I should check it out just in case. I didn’t know you played,” he gestured at the guitar you held, as if there was any doubt what he was talking about.   
“Well you wouldn’t since I don’t tell anyone.”   
“Why not?”   
You shrugged, “Just never have,”   
“You should. You’ve got a lovely voice,”   
“Thank you,”   
“But you never answered me, did you write it?”   
“Yeah,” you looked at your feet, “it’s still a work in progress though.”   
“Well it sounds lovely so far.”   
“It’s okay, not working out as easily as some other stuff I’ve come up with,”   
“There’s more?”   
“Nothing special, just a few things I’ve been playing around with. Bit of fun is all.”   
“Bit of fun my arse. What you and those beasts I call bandmates get up to is fun, you want to write properly, don’t you?”   
“Kind of, yeah. Been wanting to make music since I was a kid but never really got the chance.”   
“If a chance is all you need I can help,”   
“Help how?”   
“Darling I have access to quite a number of high-powered men in the music industry. I’ll help you record a demo, make sure it gets into the right hands. And if none of them snap you up I’ll bloody do it myself. I’ll be your musical fairy godmother, wave my wand and make your dreams come true,” he winke at you.   
“Freddie, I-”   
“Don’t say something stupid like you can’t accept or that it’s too much. I absolutely insist you let me help you get a foot in the door.”   
“I don’t know what to say,”   
“Say, let’s do it Freddie,”   
“Let’s do it Freddie,” you laughed.   
“Excellent! You’re going to go home and write out your five best songs for me and we’ll start working on recording them tomorrow, okay?”   
“Okay!” you couldn’t help but grin, “How can I thank you for this?”   
“Dedicate your first album to me, that’ll do.”


End file.
